Responsibility
by daisley
Summary: Remus Lupin has never had an easy life. Some of his actions, when taken out of context, seem out of character and even a little cold-hearted. But every decision he made happened for a reason.
1. Father

**Disclaimer: Seriously, I don't own Harry Potter or any of the affiliated characters. J.K. Rowling does. I'm just trying to fill in the gaps in her stories the way I want them to be filled. Don't sue.**

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Chapter 1: Father

An itch woke Remus up that night. His last transformation was two days ago and the larger wounds were still healing beneath tightly wrapped bandages, and he couldn't reach the itch. Instead he rubbed the bandage on his arm furiously until the itch finally dissipated and a burning pain replaced it. He could cope with the pain at least.

The latest treatment attempt had failed, Remus sighed and turned onto his side, trying to forget the look of disappointment he had seen on his parents' faces when they opened the cellar door and found him lying in a pool of blood.

He had to keep reminding himself that they weren't disappointed with him, it wasn't his fault (or so they said); they were just disappointed that the potion they had tried this time hadn't help.

Gradually, Remus became aware of the noises coming from downstairs. His parents were talking, he realized. He hoped they weren't fighting again. His parents made a habit out of only fighting when he was in bed, but he still heard them and he knew they only ever fought about him.

He couldn't make out specific words from the conversation, but there was something unsettling about their tones. There was a kind of electricity behind the murmurs, one that let Remus know a fight was about to break out. He tried to block out the sound by shutting his eyes tightly and pulling a pillow over his ears, but the murmurs were steadily becoming louder. Until, finally, Remus was able to make out what his mother was saying.

"I know it didn't work John! You don't have to keep saying it! We'll just have to try again and keep trying until we find something that does help!"

His father's reply was muffled, but Remus could hear his tone become increasingly agitated.

"Do you think I care how much it costs?! This is our _son_, John! Our only son! If it helps even a little, it doesn't matter if it bankrupts us, it'll be worth it!"

His father began yelling as well, "If anything, Anne, these so-called _treatments_, are just making things worse. You know Remus hates taking them too! I'm just trying to think about what's best for our son!"

Remus silently agreed with his father, he did hate taking all the strange potions that were supposed to help him with his transformations. Nothing stopped him from hurting himself and the potions would just leave him feeling worse than usual when he woke up the next morning.

"You're 'just thinking about what's best for our son'!?" Remus flinched as his mother began shrieking, he knew what she was going to say next. "You sure as hell weren't thinking about what was best for him when you passed those regulations! They warned you John, they warned you what would happen but you didn't listen."

"I was just trying to do my job, Anne!"

"Yes, you were 'just doing your job' and now our nine year old son will never have a normal life!"

_It's not his fault_, Remus thought miserably. He should have listened to his parents and stayed indoors that night.

"Oh it's so easy to say what I _should _have done. Have you already forgotten!? We were getting threats before those regulations ever hit my desk. I can't change what's happened; if I could I would, in a heartbeat. I don't know what else I can do to earn your forgiveness Anne! It's been five years and every single conversation always comes back to this!"

Remus realized he was holding his breath, waiting for his mother to retaliate. After what seemed like an eternity, she responded and it made Remus wince. His mother had begun sobbing.

"I know. I know it always come back to this. I'm sorry, I'm so, so so-sorry" she hiccupped. "I want to forgive you John, god, how I want to forgive you! I want us to just be happy for Remus' sake. I've been trying for years to move past this but I ca-can't, I just can't."

Although Remus had wanted nothing more than to block out his parents conversation and go back to sleep, he found himself straining to hear more as his parents' voices became softer.

"Anne… I…"

"Every month when I see him hurt like that, every time I see his scars, every time I have to ignore letters from my parents, my brother, my old friends… Every single time, I'm reminded that none of this would've happened if you hadn't… if you hadn't…" She trailed off.

"I'm sorry." There was something so weak about his father's voice, so defeated sounding, Remus shuddered.

"I know you are, and I'm sorry too."

And then there was silence, Remus found himself crying but he wasn't sure why. His parents fought all the time, but something about this night felt different and he knew it was entirely his fault. He wanted curl up into a tiny ball and vanish from his parents' life, maybe then they could learn to love each other again.

* * *

Remus woke up a short time later, it was still dark out and he wasn't sure what had disturbed him for a moment. Then a light began creeping across his room as his father pushed open his bedroom door. Remus didn't move, but continued to watch his father's shadow carefully as it approached him.

"Remus?" he whispered. Remus didn't answer and his father sighed. For a moment, Remus thought his father was going to notice that he was awake, but instead, he turned away and gently closed the door behind him. There was a muffled shuffling noise and Remus suddenly felt very nervous.

Throwing the covers off, Remus scrambled up. He scrunched up his face in pain as the sudden movement stretched a wound on his side awkwardly. The discomfort subsided quickly though and he rushed to the door.

"Dad?" he gasped throwing the door open as he ran to the top of the staircase.

John Lupin was already at the bottom of the stairs and looked up in surprise at his son's voice.

"Remus, you're awake."

"I—I couldn't sleep." Remus began to feel sheepish; he knew he wasn't supposed to have heard his parents' fight earlier.

His father just nodded sadly. He looked old, Remus realized suddenly, older than a man his age should. There were bags under his eyes, his hair was disheveled and his face seemed gray, if he didn't know any better, he could've sworn his father had been crying. A moment passed in silence before John shook his head softly, as if trying to wake himself up.

"I've got to go now Remus."

"But, where are you going?" Remus panicked as he noticed the suitcase by the door.

"Away. Don't worry though, it's only for a few days Remus. Your mother and I just need some time apart so we can clear our heads. I won't be gone long." Remus knew his father was lying, he could hear it in his voice, but he wanted to believe him. Remus nodded.

"Be good to your mother alright? You're the man of the house until I get back."

"I'll be good dad, I promise." Remus watched as his father's face fell.

"I know you will be. Goodbye Remus." John picked up his suitcase and turned towards the door.

"Goodbye dad." Remus' voice sounded much meeker than he had meant it to and it caused his father to flinch as he grabbed the doorknob.

For a second, Remus thought his father he had changed his mind; that he was going to turn around and give his son a hug and promise that he would stay and fix things with his mother. But after a brief pause, John Lupin opened the door and walked through the threshold without so much as a glance back at his son. The door closed behind him with a soft click and Remus knew in that moment that he would never see his father again.

After what felt like an eternity, Remus left the staircase and returned to his bed. He wrapped himself tightly in his blanket and stared numbly out his window. The sound of his mother's muffled sobs two rooms over was rhythmic and it gradually lulled him back into an uneasy sleep.


	2. Mother

**Author's Note: I need to fix up the first chapter a bit. Don't you just love it when you notice typos and such ****_after_**** you've submitted something? Bleh. Hopefully the typos in this one are minimal. Anyways, here's Chapter 2, it's a lot longer than Chapter 1 but I've always thought Remus' relationship with his mother deserved way more time and attention than his relationship with his (in my mind) deadbeat dad. Enjoy!**

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Chapter 2: Mother

June, 1974

Anne Lupin looked at her son fondly; his vacation had only begun five short hours ago and he was already several chapters in to his summer reading. She had missed him more than she realized while he was away at school, his quiet presence filled a void within her that was impossible to ignore.

He looked tired, maybe even a little ill… but that was to be expected with the full moon being less than four days away. She hated the days leading up to the full moon in particular. Her son would grow more withdrawn, temperamental, and physically sicker and there was nothing she could do to help. At least in the days after the full moon, when he was broken and battered she could help him heal.

This month was different however; Anne was almost excited for the impending full moon. This month Remus would be trying a new potion, one she had been saving up for all year. Yes, it was very expensive and yes, she had been warned that it was still in the early stages of development, but she had been told by several different people that this potion would have a noticeable effect. She had eagerly written to her son about it after he'd returned to school in the New Year. He'd expressed some apprehension but said he was willing to try it, just as she knew he would.

Remus peered up from his book and looked at his mother curiously, "What is it?" he asked.

Anne started slightly, realizing she had been staring. "Nothing," she smiled. Remus smiled in return and began reading again.

"Well, actually…" she interrupted, "Do you remember that new treatment I wrote to you about?"

All traces of the smile and amusement that had been on her son's face faded and apprehension replaced it, "Er… yes… What about it?"

"Well, someone's coming by tomorrow afternoon to go over the procedure with you." Remus raised his eyebrows, clearly he hadn't been expecting to have to try it so soon after returning home, "I just thought" she continued, "that we'd be better off trying it sooner rather than later, just in case there are any problems, we have a whole summer to work things out."

In reality, Anne wanted to try it as soon as possible so that she wouldn't be tempted to spend the money she had been saving up for it on other things she knew they needed.

"Oh. Okay." Anne did her best to ignore his lack of enthusiasm

"Everyone I've spoken to says it makes a real difference."

Remus gave a strained smile. "I'm sure it _will _work this time mum." He was trying to placate her and Anne fought the urge to become defensive. This close to a full moon an argument might leave Remus sulking for a few days and it would be a miserable way to start his summer.

Sighing, she decided to change the subject, "I'm so happy you're home."

He smiled at this, "I'm happy I'm home too."

* * *

The next day, shortly after lunch, Emily Turnbull, the potioneer's assistant showed up at the Lupin home. Anne was already well acquainted with Emily, having met with her on several occasions to talk about the treatment. There was something welcoming about the woman; she was friendly, warm, and open—Anne was certain that she wasn't just selling more false hope.

"Anne! It's so good to see you again!" The two women embraced briefly, "How have you been?"

"I've been good! Remus just got back from his father's yesterday. It's so wonderful to have him around again." It was a small lie, but both Remus and his mother had agreed to use it to explain his lengthy absence. His presence at Hogwarts had to be kept a secret.

In actuality, Anne and Remus hadn't seen John Lupin since the night he'd left them. He would send an occasional letter, but they were few and far between. She had been devastated for a while when he first left, but gradually came to believe it was for the best. The overwhelming tension in their home had disappeared with him.

"Well, let's go say hello!" Emily said enthusiastically and laughed as she added, "Not that I mean to invite myself in." Anne smiled and led her through the entryway to the living room where Remus was waiting.

As the two women entered the room, Remus got up and eyed Emily warily. He never knew how strangers were going to act towards him.

Emily grinned and shook his hand, "You must be Remus! It's a pleasure to finally meet you! I'm Emily."

Remus smiled shyly, surprised by the instant acceptance of a complete stranger.

"It's nice to meet you too."

The conversation was light and casual for a while, Anne served tea, and gradually her son became less reserved in Emily's presence and she was grateful for the woman's patience and eagerness to make sure Remus was comfortable.

The conversation began to dwindle and there seemed to be an unspoken agreement between the three of them that it was time to put the pleasantries aside and get down to business.

"My colleague, Damocles Belby, has been working on this potion for several years now. The goal isn't to stop your transformations altogether—that would be impossible… the purpose of this potion is to keep you from hurting yourself while transformed. So far we've had some success with many of our other patients. I'll admit though, none of them are as young as you are."

Anne glanced at her son, who was watching the other woman intently. It felt odd to have someone refer to him as a patient. Of course, that's exactly what he was… a very sick young man living a horrible disease… but most of the time 'patients' with Remus' condition were simply referred to as werewolves or by other much more disagreeable terms. 'Patient' sounded so wonderfully human.

"I'm not going to lie to you or sugarcoat this Remus; the potion is still in the early stages of development. There are many risks involved; the dosage may not be strong enough, in which case you'll only see a slight improvement. There's also a small risk that your body will reject the potion—so far we've only had that happen with one patient, but the reaction was fatal."

Anne felt her stomach twist into knots, _the odds of that happening are so small, it'll never happen to my Remus_ she reassured herself.

"That being said, are you still willing to try this?"

Remus looked over to his mother who was watching him with anticipation. Slowly, he nodded.

"Perfect!" Emily's somber tone seemed to evaporate and her cheerful disposition reemerged. "Now then, I'm going to go over the process with you so that there aren't any unpleasant surprises the day of. If you have any questions, just stop me."

"I'll bring the potion over with me about two hours before moon rise. I'm going to give you a different potion beforehand that will stop you from being sick. An hour after that, I'll give you the actual potion. It's a particularly nasty one and you'll have trouble keeping it down without the first one. I'll stay around for a few minutes after you've taken it, just to make sure you don't have a bad reaction. Then, just go through your normal routine. I assume you'll be transforming here?"

Remus nodded.

"Excellent! Well, like I said, just go about your normal routine and I'll be back a few minutes before moonset with one of our healers," she smiled before adding, "Just to be on the safe side."

"Do you have any questions for me?"

"No, I think you explained it all." Remus replied quietly, obviously not wanting to pursue the subject any further.

"Well then," Emily said standing up, "I'll see you again soon Remus. It really has been a pleasure meeting you!"

"Goodbye Emily. Thanks so much for coming all this way." Anne replied before Remus had a chance to say anything.

* * *

The remaining three days before the full moon seemed to fly by. Anne watched helplessly as her son became sicker and sicker. She had to keep reminding herself that this new potion would help him. And _it's going to work_, became her mantra.

"Mum, I don't want you to get too excited."

"What do you mean?"

"I just mean that, you seem very sure that this is going to work and I don't want you to be too disappointed if it doesn't."

She smiled and nodded, "Don't worry about me sweetheart." Daylight was rapidly vanishing from the room but Anne could still clearly make out the look of concern on her son's face.

A sudden knock on the door caused both Remus and his mother to jump.

"That must be Emily!" She rushed to the door and ushered the woman inside.

The two women entered the living room where, once again, Remus was waiting. He looked very ill now: his skin was very pale, his cheeks were flushed, and there were dark circles under his eyes which gave him an almost wild-looking appearance.

"Good evening Remus." Emily said cheerily, "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better" he replied with a weak smile. Emily's expression became softer and she nodded. After a brief pause, she opened the case she had brought with her, pulling out a vial of an opalescent white liquid. "You should take this one now—it'll need some time to take effect." Remus obeyed dutifully.

While they waited, Emily and Anne had a quiet conversation about the treatment's main ingredient, aconite. Being an avid gardener, Anne was fascinated by the technique they had employed to make the plant non-lethal. Remus, meanwhile, became more and more agitated and began pacing. The two women pretended not to notice his growing restlessness and discomfort until finally it was time for him to take the second potion.

Emily pulled out a large vial full of a strange dark liquid. When she pulled the stopper out, a faint blue smoke came off of it. She handed it to Remus who sniffed it and flinched.

"I know it's awful. But you need to drink the entire thing," she coached.

Remus sighed, took a deep breath, and threw the entire substance back with one swig. He began coughing and gagging. For a brief moment, Anne thought he was choking and grabbed his arm, waiting to catch him if he collapsed. Emily didn't seem particularly worried by his reaction though.

Eventually the coughing subsided and Remus pulled a face, "That's awful!" Emily gave him a sympathetic pat on the back, "I can only imagine."

She lingered for a while, making sure Remus didn't go into shock. When she was satisfied that his body wasn't going to reject the potion, she wished them both luck and left.

Gently, Anne led her son down into the cellar. This was always the worst part: locking her son into that cold, dark place. He stumbled a little when they reached the stairs and she noticed for the first time a strange glassy look in his eyes.

Once in the cellar, she helped him sit down with his back pressed against the wall, trying to ignore the way he winced. His face looked almost gray in her wand light and Anne pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. He was cold and clammy, she felt her stomach drop. Usually Remus would be burning up before his transformation.

"Remus?" she whispered.

He looked at his mother without recognition and Anne's heart began palpitating. _He's going to be okay_ she thought desperately, _he's going to be okay_.

_He doesn't even know who I am right now_, a more pessimistic part of her mind protested.

"You're going to be alright. This is going to work, okay?" He continued to stare at her with glassy eyes and an empty expression. She felt hot tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. Unsure of what else to do, she hugged her son as tightly as she could; his body was limp and unresponsive in her arms. She continued to hold him for what seemed like an age until, eventually, a violent shudder made her pull away.

Remus was shaking, the moon hadn't risen yet, but the pre-transformation tremors let her know that it was time to get out of the cellar. She kissed his forehead and hurried out of the room. Locking the door and securing it behind her. When she was certain the door was fixed in place, she paused for a moment, listening.

Next she had to cast a silencing charm, more for her own peace of mind than anything else. She'd heard him screaming once, during his first real full moon as a werewolf, she hadn't thought to put on a silencing charm and she'd never been able to forget the way he'd screamed.

Normally, he'd whimper and cry in the last minutes and seconds before the change as his body prepared itself, but all she could hear on the other side of the door now was silence. His pre-transformation sounds of pain were awful, but his silence was proving to be much more terrifying.

She strained to hear him. _Please,_ she begged, _please just make a sound. Let me know you're okay_. As if to punish her for wishing for such a thing there was a sudden, horrible cracking noise which was immediately followed by a scream that seemed to shake the whole house. Anne gasped and fell away from the door. The scream tapered off and she could hear Remus gasping, after a split second pause, another heart wrenching scream filled the air. She fumbled clumsily with her wand, casting a silencing charm as soon as she was holding it the right way, the scream was cut off and the silence left her ears ringing.

A sob cut through the quiet and it took a moment for Anne to realize it was her own cry. Then, as if a dam had been broken, she began sobbing uncontrollably as she tried to scramble up the stairs. She knew she couldn't sit outside the door. The smell of a human just beyond his reach would drive her son mad, and it was that knowledge alone that kept her moving.

At the top of the cellar stairs, she collapsed and continued crying through the night.

* * *

Anne was sitting in her living room when 4:30am rolled around. Another fifteen minutes until the moon set, she noted absentmindedly. Her eyes were red from crying and a lack of sleep and she knew that she should try to make herself more presentable for when Emily and the healer arrived, but she couldn't bring herself to get up.

A soft knock on the door shook her out of her daydream-like state and she tried to push the sounds she'd heard just a few hours ago into the back of her mind. She let Emily and the healer, a short, stout woman, into her house. Both women ignored Anne's disheveled look.

They sat in silence waiting for the moon to set. Anne noticed that the healer had brought a rather extensive medical kit while Emily had an owl with her. The minutes dragged by painfully and she was grateful that Emily wasn't trying to fill the silence with pointless chatter.

Finally, the alarm she had set went off, letting them know it was safe to retrieve Remus. The three women made their way down the cellar stairs and paused outside the great iron door that sealed her son in. Anne removed her silencing charm first and listened for something: rustling, a moan, a shuffling sound… anything to let her know what was waiting for her on the other side. But there was only silence. Had her alarm been too early? She wasn't sure. She had been certain when she set it that she had the correct time, but now she was filled with doubt.

"I think it's safe Anne." Emily said gently. Anne gave her a small nod and removed her locking spells. The door swung open and the small room filled with light as the healer quickly pushed past her.

There, pressed up against the same wall where she had left him, was the crumpled form of her son. She felt her heart swell with excitement as she realized there wasn't any blood, no cuts, no visible injuries: just Remus, looking remarkably intact.

"Remus!" She couldn't suppress her smile, but then she caught a glimpse of the healer's grim expression. It had worked hadn't it? Anne looked over to Emily who suddenly looked very pale and worried.

"Oh dear…" she muttered, Anne followed the woman's gaze and for the first time, she managed to focus on her son's face.

His skin was white and his lips were blue. She felt Emily brush past her as she joined the healer at Remus' side. Anne continued to stand in the doorway, clutching onto the frame so tightly her knuckles turned white.

_He isn't breathing_ she realized. _He's dead_. The room began spinning. _He didn't want to try it, he hated taking those stupid potions, John was right_. Anne's thoughts began racing. _I should've listened, he was right all along and now I've killed my son. _

"Remus!" her trance was broken and she rushed to her son's side. "Remus, wake up! Wake up!" She was screaming.

"Please Anne, it's alright. He's going to be okay, you just need to give us some space." Emily's words didn't reach her as her hysteria continued to build.

"He's not breathing!" she shrieked.

"He _is_ breathing, it's okay. The dosage must have been too strong." Emily's tone became sterner, "You need to give us some space. We're going to revive him." Anne nodded numbly; she backed away slightly but grabbed ahold of her son's hand. It was ice cold and she squeezed it tightly willing it to warm up. Realizing that she wasn't going to move any further back, the healer sighed and began chanting rhythmically.

The air became charged with the electricity of the healer's magic. Minutes passed, it felt more like hours though. Remus' lips remained blue and his face white, but as she stared, Anne noticed the way his chest was rising and falling ever so slightly.

_Please_, she begged, _please let him be alright. I promise I will never do this ever again. Never. Just let him be alright. Please._ She was crying again, she didn't think she had any tears left in her after last night.

_Please._

She felt his hand twitch in hers and he instinctively wrapped his fingers around hers.

"Remus?"

Suddenly, his whole body convulsed and Remus turned his head coughing up strange black goo. Immediately he took a long shuddering breath and groaned. Color returned to his lips and all three women sighed with relief. He didn't open his eyes but life was slowly returning to his frail body.

The healer was sweating from the effort to revive him and Anne realized just how difficult it had been to wake him.

"We can move him to his bed now," the healer said, exhausted.

Once Remus was settled into his own bed, Emily turned to Anne, "I'm so sorry Anne. Damocles must have gotten the dosage wrong. I told him he shouldn't have made it as strong as usual, that Remus was smaller than all our other patients but…" she trailed off. "I need to send a letter; I'll be back in a moment."

Finding herself alone with her son at last, she kissed his forehead and whispered, "I promise Remus, no more. I won't make you do this anymore. I swear it."

She hadn't realized it before, but the belief that one day he wouldn't have to go through his monthly ordeal had made everything else more tolerable. The isolation, the poverty, the sacrifices—it had all been easier to stomach when she had believed one day everything would be alright. But enough was enough, her denial and blind optimism had nearly killed the one person she had left in this world… it was time to grow up and accept her son's condition for what it was—permanent.

After ten years of holding out hope, it was strange how quickly her disappointment and hurt turned into bitter acceptance. It wasn't worth it; nothing was worth her son's life. She grabbed his hand, it was still cold but not icy like it had been, "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry" she whispered.

By the time Emily returned, Anne had managed to compose herself. She felt numb and distant, but at least she was thinking clearly again.

"I need to report in to Belby," she said softly, "We'll return tonight to make sure he's recovering properly, but it'll probably be a few days before responsive again and at least a week or two before he's back to normal." Anne nodded silently, unable to meet the other woman's gaze.

Emily made a small noise like she was about to say something else, but instead she sighed and turned away. A minute later Anne heard the front door open and close but continued to stare at her son's face.

"No more, I promise."


	3. Son

**Author's Note: Alright, so originally I was going to have this be the final chapter, but I now realize just how depressing that would be. So I'm going to add one or two more chapters later. Enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 3: Son

September 1978

"More than a feeeeeeeling!" Sirius's off-key singing rang out from the bathroom. Remus smiled as his friend mumbled the next lyrics incoherently, obviously he didn't remember them.

"When I seeeeee Mary Ann walk awaaaaaaay!" The tawny haired boy laughed softly to himself. He heard the bathroom door open but he refused to look up from his book and quickly wiped the smile off of his face.

"I never knew you were so musically gifted Padfoot." It was increasingly difficult to keep a straight face. Sirius gave a bark of a laugh.

"Jealous Moony?" he teased as he crossed the room and flopped down onto the couch next to his roommate. Remus knew that if he looked at his friend's face now he wouldn't be able to contain his laughter.

"Deep down, I think I've always secretly wished I could sing as well as you." Although he tried to suppress it, a smile began tugging at his lips. Giving up, he finally met Sirius' eye. They both began laughing.

When the laughter died, Sirius sighed and casually swung his legs up, putting his feet on Remus' lap.

"What are we doing for lunch today?" he asked as he began lazily pulling dog hairs off his shirt. Remus put his book aside, pushed his friend's feet off his lap, and stood up.

"Well I don't know what _you're_ doing, but _I _am having lunch with my mother today."

"What!?" Sirius protested, "Since when?"

"I told you about this yesterday. Do you ever listen to me?" Remus sighed, exasperated.

"Sometimes!" Sirius chimed defensively.

"Did you want to come?"

"No, Annie hates me." Sirius groaned melodramatically.

"She doesn't hate you Sirius," the boy scoffed in disbelief before Remus continued; "She doesn't like it when you call her Annie though."

"Please. She _does_ hate me. I took her ickle baby Remus away from home." Remus rolled his eyes.

"So, you _don't_ want to come then?" he asked mildly.

"No. Go to your boring lunch with your mother, I'm sure I'll think of something I can do to kill the time." Remus didn't doubt it; Sirius was quite good at keeping himself entertained. "But if you're not back by dinner," he added, "I'll assume that you're dead and start throwing out your crap."

Remus flashed a big grin and headed for the door, "Whatever helps you cope."

"Say 'hi' to Annie for me!" Sirius shouted as the other boy walked out the door and disapparated.

* * *

It took a moment for the world to stop spinning when Remus reappeared outside his mother's house.

Something was wrong, he knew it immediately.

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and wrapped his hand around the wand in his pocket anxiously. Although nothing looked to be out of the ordinary, Remus felt a strange pull in his chest that put him on edge. He wasn't sure why, but he knew he had to go around back… every fiber of his being was urging him to do so.

Warily, he walked around the outside of the house feeling the pull become stronger the further he went.

There, pressed up against the back door he spotted massive shadowy figure. A split second later, Remus had his wand out and pointed squarely at the stranger.

"Who are you!?" he demanded.

The man, at least he thought it was a man—he looked as though he could be part giant—turned away from whatever had previously held his attention and grinned a wolfish grin at Remus. His heart began thudding painfully. It was as if he knew this stranger even though he was sure they'd never met—he would've remembered a face so terrifying.

"Ah!" the man rasped, "So the prodigal son returns! I have to admit Lupin I was expecting a warmer welcome. Your mother has been a terrible hostess. It doesn't matter though, you're here now."

"Where is she?!" Remus struggled to keep his voice steady, the stranger's presence was having a strange effect on him and he felt shaky and dizzy.

"That mudblood bitch?" Remus flinched ever so slightly at the insult, "You don't need her. She was weak." _Was?_, he wondered anxiously, but the man wasn't finished.

"I never should have left you with her. But then, I didn't count on you disappearing so quickly. I've been looking for you for a long time, _son_." Remus' hand was shaking so badly he was worried he was going to drop his wand.

"Who are you?" he repeated, unable suppress the fear in his voice any longer. He knew he shouldn't keep talking, that the stranger was obviously biding his time—trying to confuse Remus into lowering his defenses, but something deeper and more powerful than his logical mind was willing him to keep listening.

The beastly man gave a hollow laugh; his sour yellow eyes twinkled with amusement as he searched Remus' face. Obviously he didn't see what he had been looking for though as his smile quickly faded.

"Oh, you're serious?" he barked, "You _really_ don't know who I am? Even after that beautiful night we spent together?" He paused, and Remus felt nausea surge through his body. "I suppose it _was_ almost fourteen years ago, and you were so young and tender." Remus couldn't breathe, the world was spinning. The man sighed nostalgically. "Still, I thought our time together would have left a lasting impression on you," he gave a cruel laugh and took a step towards Remus.

"I suppose I _did_ leave an impression, even if you don't remember my face." He winked. "Can you feel it? What am I saying? Of course you can feel it! We're connected, you and I. Birds of a feather. You were my youngest—you should be proud!" He hesitated before adding casually, "Well, I should say that you were the youngest who _survived_."

Remus' rational mind was screaming at him to react, to stun the creature in front of him while he was distracted telling his story, but it was as though he were in a trance. He couldn't move, couldn't look away.

"You… you're…" he cursed at himself silently for his sudden inability to form coherent sentences. Speaking more than a few words at a time seemed like an extraordinarily bad idea given the state of his stomach however.

"I'm your father Remus, don't you remember?" he said in a mocking tone before flashing another wide grin full of sharp yellowing teeth. "Well… your adoptive father I suppose. Such a shame about your real father… I always knew he was a cowardly bastard but to leave behind his wife and child like that, well... that's low even for him." The fear and confusion he had been feeling was quickly replaced with intense anger and revulsion at the mention of his father.

"Shut up!" Remus snarled, "You don't know anything about my father! Just shut up!" Unintentional red sparks shot out from the tip of his wand. Remus had always been unusually gifted at non-verbal and wandless magic, but he hadn't performed any accidental magic in years and it made him hate the stranger more: he was causing Remus to lose control.

"Oh, but I do know your father," he practically purred taking another step towards Remus, "In fact, I'm certain I know your father better than you do. I know he never had the guts to tell you that he and I go way back."

"You're lying!" he shouted back as more unbidden sparks came out of his wand.

"I am not," the man calmly replied. The coolness of his tone sent a chill down Remus' spine. "'Werewolves are nothing more than rabid animals that must either be put down or caged up', that's what he said. Of course, John had quite the knack for poetic language… I'm sure his exact words were much more eloquent. You see Remus," he took another step forward, "your father wanted werewolves classified as beasts, not beings… and that hurt my feelings very badly. I thought, 'how can a man who's never spent any time with an actual werewolf make a decision like that?' So I decided to broaden his mind and give him a gift: his very own little werewolf."

"Th-that's not true…" Although he had meant to sound firm and confident his voice just sounded desperate and weak. He couldn't help but remember the fights his parents had had in the years after he was bitten.

His mother had blamed his father for what had happened and he'd always believed her anger was misplaced. He'd thought that the events of that night had been his fault—he'd disobeyed his parents and gone outside looking for a toy he'd forgotten in the yard. He had even resented his mother at times, believing that she had driven his father away.

"It _is_ true and you know it's true." He did know.

Fighting the tears that were beginning to burn his eyes Remus took a deep breath and tried to concentrate, "Where is my mother?"

"You don't need her anymore; you're coming with me with."

"Where is she!?" he shouted as a new rage filled his chest.

"Dead." His heart stopped, "Or she will be if you don't come with me."

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" yet even as the words escaped his mouth, the man took a final step forward and grabbed Remus' extended wand arm with lightning speed, twisting it. His nails were long and jagged and dug into his skin, drawing blood. His wand fell to the ground with a soft and sickening thud.

He squirmed and thrashed about out of instinct—he had always been the strongest of his friends despite his lanky appearance, but the man holding him was much stronger. Fighting back only seemed to entrap him more as the stranger's other clawed hand wrapped around his throat and he was pulled in close to his body.

His breath was putrid and he whispered into Remus' ear, "You disappoint me. I thought my lesson would've taught you to be more open-minded. It doesn't matter, one way or another, you're coming with me."

_Focus_.

He had to see the fire in his mind clearly for it to work…

_Focus_.

_It's now or never._

Suddenly his captor jumped away with a yelp. Remus gasped as the other man's nails left deep gashes on his throat and arm. He fell away and scrambled towards his wand, catching only a brief glimpse of the burns and blisters he'd managed to inflict.

Remus snatched his wand and, turning back around, shouted "Stupefy!" but the larger man dodged it easily.

"You're upset. It's a lot to take in."

"Petrificus totalus!" Again he managed to side-step the attack.

"You need some time to think things over. I get it. But when you realize that you need me—"

"Reducto!" the hedge beside the larger man exploded as he avoided the attack yet again.

"Just follow my trail…" Suddenly there was an explosion of smoke and as Remus coughed and sputtered trying to clear the dust from his eyes and mouth he heard the distinct 'pop' of the stranger apparating away.

He stood stone still for a moment, trying to catch his breath and stop the wave of nausea that rolled through his body. He was unsuccessful however and was sick on his mother's azaleas. He grimaced before panic set in once again. _Mum._

Remus tore through the house like a whirlwind, searching frantically for any sign of his mother. Was she still in the house? Was it already too late? With each passing second, he became more desperate.

_Bedrooms, bathroom, living room, dining room, kitchen_, he mentally checked off each one. It wasn't a particularly large house and there were only so many places she could be if she was still in it. Standing in the kitchen, he glanced briefly at the door to the basement and paused.

_The cellar_.

He nearly tumbled down the stairs as he took them two or three at a time, the iron door was slightly ajar and he threw himself into it. It gave way more easily than he'd anticipated and he lost his balance, falling into the room on his hands and knees.

"Mum?" He couldn't see through the darkness and muttered, "Lumos."

"Mum!"

Anne was in a corner, limp and drenched in blood. Remus crawled towards her, scarcely able to breathe. A strange metallic noise caught his attention, she moaned and tried to turn to face him but something held her back. It took a moment for him to realize she was shackled and chained. If he hadn't just been ill all over mother's garden, he was certain he would've thrown up again.

They had tried the chains for a short time when he was five… but after a month or two the wolf had attempted to chew off its own foot to escape. After that, they had sat untouched in a dark corner in the cellar.

"What did he do to you?" He gasped as he removed the shackles and began searching her body for whatever wound had her bleeding profusely.

"Re-Remus?" her voice was soft and her eyes were having trouble focusing on him.

"It's me mum, I'm here. It's okay." He felt tears streaming down his cheeks but tried to sound calm.

"I'm sorry!" she cried.

"You don't need to be sorry, it's okay. It'll be alright." He was astounded by how collected he managed to sound considering how worked up he felt. He couldn't find the injury—there was too much blood to see anything.

"I-I should've told you. I'm so sorry." He struggled to ignore the way her voice was becoming weaker with each word.

"Please mum, I don't care about that. Where are you hurt?"

"His name is Fenrir Greyback… I should've told you… You must hate me…"

"No, it's okay! I love you mum!" he voice broke from the emotion, "Just tell me where you're hurt so I can heal you!" He was sobbing now, unable to feign calm control any longer. "Please."

She closed her eyes and smiled at his words. "I love you." She sighed, "And I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…" She continued to mumble half-conscious apologies while Remus, unsure of what else to do, sent a Patronus to Dumbledore begging for his help, and she continued to apologize until the last drops of life slipped from her body.

* * *

It was a beautiful funeral Remus noted. All the leaves in the trees had turned brilliant shades of red, orange, and yellow. His mother would have loved it.

He couldn't save her, not even with Dumbledore's help. Dark magic had wounded her and their healing spells had been too little too late.

It still didn't feel real.

Everyone had said all the right words about Anne Lupin: that she had been a warm and kind-hearted woman, and that it wasn't fair that she had been taken from the world so soon.

Remus felt his heart twinge painfully when his uncle, his mother's muggle brother, said she had always been so vivacious and full of life—it wasn't true, at least, not towards the end. He had seen his mother slowly wear away over the last few years. It had been like watching waves beat on the shore, eroding it bit by bit. And he knew he had been the cause of it; at some point she'd lost all hope of her son ever having a full and normal life and it had been slowly killing her.

Speaking with his uncle had been incredibly uncomfortable as the two of them hadn't seen each other since Remus was a toddler, but he appreciated the man's presence nonetheless.

John Lupin didn't put in an appearance but he sent a large bouquet of flowers; Remus wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed by his father's absence, but it was probably a mixture of both.

What bothered him the most though was the small attendance—it reminded him of how isolated Anne had been in the end. Most of the guests were his friends and acquaintances: the marauders, Lily, several members from the Order, and Dumbledore (of course). In fact the only attendees that were there strictly for his mother were his uncle, his uncle's family, and handful of her old co-workers. It was like a punch to the stomach.

Every time he thought about what had happened that afternoon, Remus found himself trapped in a downward spiral of self-loathing: _If I hadn't allowed myself to get distracted, I would've reached her in time. If I wasn't a werewolf, she'd still have friends and be happy. If it wasn't for me, she would still be alive._

And then there was his mother's killer, the same man who had made him a werewolf: Fenrir Greyback.

Remus had done some research between Anne's death and her funeral and every article he read had horrified him. The man was a monster, through and through—suddenly Remus understood the rest of society's fears and prejudices. He hated what he became every month, it scared and repulsed him, but he'd always believed there was a firm line of separation between who he was as a person and the wolf. The line didn't seem so firm any more. Fenrir had embraced the beast within and was barely a man anymore. Remus wondered how easy it had been for him to slip.

"Remus?" his old headmaster's voice made him jump, he'd been more lost in thought than he realized.

Dumbledore's face was solemn and grey as he placed a hand on his former student's shoulder, "I'm so sorry. I should have protected her better; I didn't realize how great the danger was."

"Did you know?" Remus blurted out in a strained voice. There was a glimmer of confusion in his icy blue eyes and Remus tried to clarify, "Did you always know?"

"About Greyback?"

Remus nodded.

"Yes." Dumbledore said evenly.

"Then why—?" his throat felt extraordinarily tight.

"I didn't believe it was my place to tell you. Your mother went to great lengths to keep you from finding out who your attacker was. Whatever her reasons for that were, I had to respect her decision."

And just like that, Remus knew why no one had ever told him about the werewolf that bit him. It had been comforting to picture the man as someone who had made an honest mistake—perhaps he'd broken free from wherever he transformed every month, or maybe he'd gone into the woods near the Lupin house not knowing that a family lived nearby. Every full moon, as the tremors began Remus would wonder if the man who bit him was also in pain, feeling just as scared and alone as he did. At times, Remus had even considered this mysterious man a father figure, believing that one day they might meet and he would replace the father that had abandoned him.

With the illusion shattered, Remus felt as though he had lost two parents that day.

"Remus, did Greyback…" he paused for a moment, searching for the right wording, "make any peculiar demands?"

The younger man shuffled awkwardly replying, "He wanted me to go with him… I don't know where though."

Dumbledore frowned slightly; his eyes were searching Remus'. "There's something I would like you to do, it might help our cause a great deal…" His stare was intense, "But now isn't the time to discuss it. We can talk about it in a few days."

"Alright," Remus mumbled, unable to meet the headmaster's gaze any longer.

The older man smiled sympathetically, "If there's _anything_ you need in the meantime, please do not hesitate to ask."

Remus gave a strained smile and watched as Dumbledore strolled away to join Lily and James.

And Remus promised himself that he would do everything in his power to stop men like Fenrir Greyback, at any cost.


	4. Son II

**Author's Note: Sorry about the long wait on this update folks. When I decided to lengthen this story to avoid a really depressing ending, I had to figure out a way to incorporate another story I was planning on writing into this one. Now the story isn't solely focused on Remus and his relationship with his parents but tries to explain some of Remus' actions in the later books. I'm also updating the rating to T from K+ for some mature themes that are in this chapter, nothing gets too explicit, but it's there. So heads up!**

**Also, I feel like this chapter needs some quick explanation: I've always wondered what Remus did in the time between 1981 and when we see him in PoA. I like to think he went to some pretty dark places both psychologically and physically. I may break off and try to examine it in more detail in a new story, but this chapter highlights a few key moments. This story will have 2 more chapters but it may be a while before I get them up, sorry. If you read this entire A/N, congrats! J Enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

Chapter 4: Son II

January 1984

Remus awoke that morning half-naked, confused, and with a throbbing head and no memory of the previous night. Mornings like this were becoming increasingly common, he noted sluggishly as he sat up. If he didn't know any better, he might have thought that last night had been a full moon—he certainly felt ill enough. But, as was often the case now, his miserable state couldn't be blamed on the moon. Remus Lupin simply had an epic hangover.

He took a deep breath, simultaneously trying to remember the events of last night and settle his stomach. He didn't recognize the room so obviously he hadn't made it to his own apartment… But where was he?

A slow, rhythmic breathing caught his attention. There was a woman on the bed next to him, still fast asleep. She looked vaguely familiar. It must be her apartment, he concluded.

He sighed, resting his head in his hands. This wasn't who he was. Remus Lupin didn't visit bars alone, he didn't go home with strangers, and he certainly didn't get black-out drunk, yet that's precisely what he _had_ been doing lately.

It hadn't started this way, he thought bitterly as he scanned the floor looking for his missing shirt. After James, Lily, and Peter had died and Sirius had been taken away to Azkaban, Remus had been a wreck. The first transformation after that Halloween had been the most violent one he'd ever experienced: if Dumbledore hadn't sent Mad-Eye to check in on him, Remus would've most certainly died… and he'd _wanted_ to die. Recovery had taken months and each full moon had set back the healing process significantly.

It had been agonizing to be bedridden all that time with nothing to occupy his mind but questions and regrets.

He'd analyzed every conversation, every event, and every action that took place in the weeks and months leading up to that fateful October night. When the memories and doubts became unbearable, there was nothing to do and nowhere to go to escape. So, the moment he was released from St. Mungo's, nearly six months after first being admitted, Remus disappeared.

He wanted to forget the war, forget Sirius Black, forget James and Lily and Peter, forget Hogwarts and Dumbledore, forget his parents and his lycanthropy… Remus wanted to forget his entire life. Every good memory he had was tainted with the bad and it was all too painful to bear. He left England, moving from place to place—blowing through what little inheritance he'd received from his mother much too quickly.

The memories followed him wherever he went though, and soon it wasn't enough to just avoid sitting still. Remus began drinking alone: that's what people did when they wanted to escape and forget, right? It worked for a short time, but eventually it only left him feeling more depressed and more fixated on what had happened. So he'd ventured out further: drinking in pubs with strangers provided some much needed relief.

In a different place and with different people, Remus could become someone different. He could be anyone he wanted to be, and as long as he wasn't himself, he wouldn't have to remember everything he'd lost.

The new Remus Lupin had gone home with this girl… The thought troubled him. It was surprisingly easy to put aside his old insecure self, easier than it should be. His thoughts began to drift back to Fenrir Greyback; once upon a time, he'd wondered how easy it had been for Greyback to embrace the beast within and forget his old identity.

_No._ Remus reprimanded himself. _I'm nothing like Greyback and I will never be anything like him._

In an attempt to shake the lingering doubt in the pit of his stomach, he stood up, grabbing his shirt from beneath the bedside table.

He checked the rest of the room, looking for anything else that might belong to him. A soft sigh brought his attention back to the girl, he couldn't remember her name. Maybe she hadn't even given it to him, Remus wasn't sure. He felt a twinge of guilt, how could he not remember her name?

_Stop it_. The feeling of guilt subsided abruptly as another part of his mind took over, the change was so sudden it actually startled him. _You don't have a responsibility to this woman, you don't even know her. Just go home._ He wasn't certain that he really believed all of that, but before he could give it another thought, his legs were propelling him towards the door by their own accord.

He stopped in the threshold to put on his coat and noticed a picture frame hanging by the door. It was a muggle photo of a little boy, probably no older than five, grinning up at the camera. A few fragments of the previous night came back to him as he stared at the image.

That's right; he'd seen the girl crying in a booth at the bar. Her ex-husband had just won full custody over their son and she was devastated. They'd bonded over it—the mutual loss of what mattered most in their lives. It had been so wonderful to comfort someone and to be comforted again; Remus had even managed to forget that he wasn't supposed to think about his old life any more.

The little boy in the photo was around the same age Remus had been when he was bitten. It was a strange thought. Remus remembered almost nothing of his life before he was a werewolf, but the night he was attacked was still clear in his mind, as were the months afterwards… Remus could vividly remember the terror he'd felt, particularly during that first year, when his parents would lead him down into the cellar.

He'd believed, for a while, that being in the cellar was what triggered the change and the agony it brought. It hadn't occurred to him that the moon would find him regardless of where he was. He'd fought his parents when they tried to take him down those dreaded stairs. He'd begged and screamed and cried.

One month he'd actually tried to hide from his parents, he could still hear their desperation in their voices as they searched for him. Fortunately the pre-transformation tremors had been particularly painful that night and he'd cried out as they began, exposing his hiding place in the cupboards. He'd barely made it into the cellar that time before the transformation started and he'd learned that the basement had nothing to do with what happened to him: the disease was deep within him.

In all the photos of Remus as a child, he looked withdrawn and sickly… The child in the photograph in front of him seemed so vibrant and happy, Remus wondered if he'd ever been that young and hopeful. It didn't seem possible.

James and Lily's son had been a happy baby. Remus was curious if Harry was still a playful and joyful child or had he become sullen in the face of trauma the same way he had. Suddenly, it occurred to Remus that Harry was about the same age he had been when he was bitten, the same age as the boy in the photograph.

His heart tightened painfully in his chest. Had it already been over two years? The pain still felt so fresh.

A shuffling noise came from across the room: Remus knew that the girl was waking up. Part of him wanted to linger, to stay with her so they could continue to comfort each other. What possible harm could that do? But a voice within him bellowed _LEAVE!_, and Remus begrudgingly obeyed.

* * *

May 1985

"Shhhh! We'll wake up my neighbors!" Heather giggled as she and Remus staggered into her apartment.

"Silencio!" Remus flicked his wand casting a silencing charm. He grinned, "There. Now we won't."

She gave him a devilish smile before pushing him back into the wall, kissing him hard. He didn't protest. Remus ran his hands up and down her back, trying to memorize the contours of her body. As their kisses became more passionate though, she pulled away.

"Wait! Wait!" She stumbled into the kitchen and came back with two pill-like disks in her hand: they were rapidly changing color and shape—it was very entertaining to watch, especially since he'd already had a good deal to drink. Heather grabbed Remus' hand, putting one of the strange objects into his palm. She popped the other into her mouth, took a gulp of firewhiskey and threw her head back. Once she'd swallowed it, she looked at him expectantly.

"What is it?" he asked in an amused voice. The pill was rolling around in his hand, turning red, forming into a square, then switching to blue and changing into a star.

"It's a fizzing whizzbee" she laughed. When Remus gave her a skeptical look, she pushed his hand to his mouth so that Remus would eat it; she then quickly pressed the bottle to his lips. As he swallowed the tablet he could feel it pulsating in his throat. He laughed at the strange sensation and Heather led him into her bedroom.

He'd been spending quite a bit of time with her over the last two weeks. She'd been in the year behind his at school, a Hufflepuff. It was no secret she'd had a huge crush on Sirius, but then again, most of the female population of Hogwarts had had a crush on Sirius Black. Although she'd recognized Remus as soon as he'd walked into the pub in Wales, she hadn't mentioned any of the Marauders much to his relief.

They fooled around for a few minutes but the "fizzing whizzbees" were taking effect and both of them became too giggly to get very far.

"Jeez Remus, if I'd known you were this much fun in school I wouldn't have…"

He smiled despite the dull sting her words caused, "You wouldn't have, what?"

"I wouldn't have wasted so much time pining over Black!"

Remus continued to smile and stare up at the ceiling feeling as though he was only half there. Strange patterns and colors began forming in front of his eyes.

"Did he really kill all of those people?" her voice sounded very distant but he felt the way she cuddled up against him.

"Yes. He did." He heard himself reply, but his voice didn't sound like his own.

"How could he have though? I thought that he was supposed to be the one good Black."

"He was." Remus didn't want to continue the conversation anymore and luckily Heather seemed to share that sentiment. She sighed, put her head on his chest, and closed her eyes. She began humming softly although he didn't recognize the tune.

The room was spinning but he felt so relaxed it didn't bother him, he closed his eyes too—it felt wonderful.

And he was the wolf, running through the woods, chasing someone down. It was the same nightmare he'd had his entire life. Inevitably he'd catch the person he was chasing and start tearing them apart, but not before he got a good look at the face of his victim, and Remus would wake up with a jolt, covered in a cold sweat. The nightmare usually plagued him close to the full moon.

He knew what was coming: he was getting close to reaching his prey and he could hear their heart pounding in his ears. Who would it be this time? He wondered vaguely. The victim was the only part of the dream that changed. Sometimes it was one of his friends, or his parents, other times it was a complete stranger. Remus suspected it might be Heather this time since he'd been spending so much time with her lately. _Not long now._

And right on time, he lunged forward, catching his target by the ankles and knocking them to the ground. The human shrieked and turned to face him and Remus saw his own terrified face looking up at him. That was new. He paused for a moment longer than usual before the wolf began mauling.

"Remus! REMUS! STOP! NO! STOP!" His prey was screaming at him, but he couldn't stop—he was too intent on killing himself. "Remus…" slowly his human form stopped fighting back, blood was pooling beneath his body.

"Remus?" With a start, he woke up.

"Hmmm?" He felt out of breath and sweaty.

"Remus, what are you doing?" He opened his eyes and gasped. Standing in front of him was Lily Potter.

"Lily?!"

She smiled at him and he felt warmth burst through his chest. "What are you doing?" she repeated. Although she didn't sound accusatory, he felt embarrassment wash over him. He must look like a mess.

"I don't know…" the shame slowly turned into something cold. "You're not real, are you?" He didn't really want to hear the answer.

Lily examined her hands and arms before quietly replying, "No, I don't suppose I am. But it feels real doesn't it?" He nodded mutely.

"What's he doing?" A new voice interrupted.

"James?" Remus felt his throat tighten.

"Hey Moony! You alright?" Again he nodded timidly.

"What are you doing?" That question was beginning to bother him.

"I don't know." He felt more certain about his answer this time.

"Sure you do!" The third voice left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Sirius. What are you doing here? You're not dead."

Sirius gave his trademark bark of a laugh, "You're so observant! But who knows, maybe I am dead—Azkaban is a terrible place. People die there all the time!"

"There would've been something in the news if you'd died…" Remus' head was beginning to ache.

"When was the last time you picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet Moony?"

"I don't remember…" Doubt began settling in his stomach, "Dumbledore would've written me if you'd died though…"

"Does Dumbledore even know where you are?" Lily asked gently.

"I'm sure that if he wanted to find me, he would. He's very good at that kind of stuff." Remus was becoming defensive.

"Alright then," Sirius conceded, "but what _are_ you _doing_?"

"Nothing!" He snapped back. "I'm not doing anything!"

All three faces became sad, and Remus felt his cheeks begin to burn with shame and embarrassment.

"You're doing 'nothing'?" James looked dumbstruck. "That's not like you Moony."

"Well, I'm _not_ me lately." He mumbled miserably.

"How can you be doing nothing?" Lily actually sounded hurt. "You're the only one who's free! We fought Voldemort and died so that you could live your life without fear or worry and you're doing _nothing_?"

Remus felt hollow. "I didn't want it to be this way. I wish it'd been reversed, that I'd died and you had lived! You two had something worth living for, I don't. Not anymore…"

"You don't seriously believe that, do you?" Sirius sounded stunned.

"This is your fault Sirius! You betrayed us all! You killed James and Lily and Peter! I don't know why you bothered stopping there; you should've killed me too!" He was shaking with pent up emotion.

Sirius just watched him for a moment with a bizarre slightly confused but amused look on his face. "How could I do all of that? I'm the one good Black, remember?" Remus let out a strangled sob and Sirius, still smiling faintly, gradually faded into nothing.

"I'm sorry." He whispered to James and Lily, "I should've protected you. But you just… disappeared and I didn't know where you'd gone. No one would tell me. I couldn't save you. I should've known Sirius was the traitor."

"It's alright Remus," Lily cooed softly, "It's not your fault." She and James began to fizzle and fade the same way Sirius had done.

"Where's Peter?" he asked hastily, trying to prolong their time together.

"Don't worry about him" James smiled warmly, fading even more.

"Please don't go."

"You'll be alright Moony…"

"You're free." Lily concluded.

And just like that they were gone, their words still ringing in his ears.

Slowly the room he was in began materializing around him and he became aware of Heather's head still resting on his chest… she was cold.

"Heather?" Nothing. He shifted her as he sat up but she didn't stir. "Heather!" Again, she gave no response. Remus began shaking her, "Wake up!" She was limp in his arms.

With trembling hands, he checked her pulse. It was still there, but it was faint.

"Rennervate!" Her eyelids fluttered but didn't open. Remus swore and dragged her into the bathroom. "Come on Heather, wake up!" He pulled her into the tub and turned on the shower, the water was icy.

A minute passed and Remus held his breath. What was he going to do if she didn't wake up? Would anyone believe him, a werewolf, when he explained it was just an accident? It seemed highly unlikely. He wanted to run away, he couldn't cope with the thought of what would happen if he had to take her to St. Mungo's. The full moon was days away and he could already hear their accusations. He didn't even know what they had taken last night. Remus swore again.

"Wake up!" He shouted and slapped her face. With a jolt her eyes shot open and she frantically tried to scramble away from the cold water. She looked completely shocked, but Remus sighed with relief.

"It's okay Heather. It's okay!" She was weakly trying to push him away in spite of his attempts to calm her. Ignoring her protesting, he pulled her back out of the tub and sat her up against the wall. He grabbed a towel and cast a quick warming charm before pulling it around her shoulders. Although she'd stopped thrashing around, she was shaking and silently crying, looking around the room wildly before her eyes managed to settle on him.

"Re-Remus?"

"Yes, Heather, I'm sorry about the cold shower. I couldn't figure out how else to wake you up. You weren't responding." She continued to stare at him incredulously. Her eyes slowly moved to his shoulder; he'd taken his shirt off in the night, but in the darkened bedroom she hadn't seen his scars.

Most weren't too bad now, his transformations had been much easier on him the past few years, and all but a handful had faded into thin silvery lines, but Remus knew exactly which scar she was staring at. Even now, 21 years later, his original scar looked raw and fresh.

"What happened?" She reached out to touch it but he flinched away. He had to think of a distraction.

"Stay here and don't move." Remus went into the kitchen and made a quick cup of coffee. He was careful to put on his shirt before he brought the drink to her. He made sure that she drank the whole thing.

"I've got to go now." He said quietly once she'd finished.

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

"No." She frowned slightly, "I can't do this anymore."

He wasn't sure how he could ever hope to explain to her everything that had happened to him since school, since his friends died. He wanted to tell her that the last two weeks had been a symptom of a lifestyle he'd adopted to help him escape, and that he hated the person he had become.

"What do you mean?" She looked up at him with doe eyes.

"I can't keep running away from my problems like this."

"What problems? How are you running away?" She looked bewildered.

Remus knew what would happen if continued spending time with her. So he just gave her a wistful smile, kissed her forehead and turned to leave. "Take it easy for a while and stay safe Heather."

"Remus!" she called out after him, but he was already gone.

* * *

Several hours later, Remus was standing outside of his mother's old house. It had definitely seen better days. The garden Anne Lupin had spent hundreds of hours meticulously cultivating and maintaining had exploded into an overgrown mess of weeds and twisted dead plants. The house itself looked battered, a couple of windows had broken and Remus could see that ivy had wound its way inside. Several shingles had come loose in the roof and hung awkwardly and all the walls looked they could use a fresh coat of paint. It was as if the house had been dying a slow death without anyone living in it.

Remus had only revisited his childhood home once after his mother was killed and it had just been to sort through some of her things. She'd left everything except for some family silverware (which had gone to his uncle) to him, including the house.

The house came with one condition though: he wasn't allowed to sell it. He understood her rationale, she knew her son would always have a hard time finding paid work and she wanted him to have a home no matter what his financial circumstances were. Remus doubted he could've sold the house even if he wanted to: the location was terrible (it was miles away from any kind of civilization) and then of course there was the cellar which was so saturated with his blood and claw marks he doubted anyone would ever be able to get rid of all of it.

Returning home after all this time was surreal. He could almost see the ghost of his former self still sitting on the porch reading a book. His heart ached and felt relieved all at once.

He was going to have to make it livable again, but he promised himself the first thing he'd fix after he cleaned up inside would be the garden. He couldn't stand to see it so neglected and forlorn looking. He knew he was going to have to make a to-do list to keep track of everything he needed to repair, but it was nice to have goals again.

Remus was so very tired and it felt good to finally stop running.


End file.
